


Laissez Les Bon Temps Rouler

by SunriseRose1023



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Established Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, M/M, New Orleans, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-17
Updated: 2015-08-17
Packaged: 2018-04-15 04:38:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4593132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunriseRose1023/pseuds/SunriseRose1023
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a very rare "day off," Dean takes the chance to take his brother to his favorite city, showing Sam everything New Orleans has to offer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Laissez Les Bon Temps Rouler

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this prompt from LJ: 
> 
> "The boys having fun and not running for their lives. A day in the life kind of deal."
> 
> I set this sometime in the early seasons. Sam is 24, John is dead, Cold Oak hasn't happened, and Dean hasn't made his deal. So this is Season 2-ish? Also I call "Author Liberties" on the timeline, because the time of year and the things the boys do/eat don't really match up. As a native Louisianian, I know this. ;) 
> 
> The title is a Cajun phrase meaning "Let the good times roll." Without giving too much away, there are a few more Cajun terms. Any questions, don't hesitate to ask. Also, this is my first Wincest posting, so ... Please enjoy!

**_Laissez Les Bon Temps Rouler_ **

At the sound of the hotel room door closing, Dean Winchester poked his head out of the bathroom, hair still wet and a towel around his neck.

“Anything?”  
“Nope.”

Sam set the coffees and the bag of food on the little table, reaching up and stretching out his arms. His fingertips brushed the ceiling, and Sam let out a sigh, shaking out his shoulders and looking to his brother.

“Nothing around town, nothing in the paper, and I haven’t heard from Bobby.”  
“He called before I got in the shower. Said his radar’s clear.”

Sam nodded, reaching down to tug his shirt over his head, making a face at the sweat-soaked material. Dean walked into the room, wearing only his jeans, towel still around his neck. Sam walked past him and Dean reached out, slapping him on the ass. Sam stopped just ahead of the bathroom door.

“Seriously?”  
“Couldn’t help it. By the way, shower’s got great water pressure. Plenty of hot left for you, too.”  
“Hmm. Maybe you’re not so bad after all.”

Dean laughed, waving at his brother as Sam closed the bathroom door. A few seconds later, Dean heard the shower start up, and he walked over to the table, picking up one of the coffees and removing the lid. He took a sip of the bitter liquid and sighed as the warmth spread through his body.

“Nectar of the gods.”

Dean poked through the bag Sam had carried in, picking up a breakfast burrito and a packet of hot sauce. He thought while he ate, lifting an eyebrow when the bathroom door opened and steam billowed out. Sam stepped through it, with his towel wrapped around his waist. Dean’s tongue got stuck in his throat, as it usually did, and Sam just smiled, shaking out his still-damp hair.

“You were right. _Great_ water pressure.”

Dean nodded, watching as Sam walked over to the bed furthest from the door, digging through his bag, dropping the towel and pulling on a pair of black boxer-briefs. Dean coughed, and Sam turned to face him, a blindingly bright smile on his face.

“Come across anything?”

Dean cleared his throat, looking down and shaking his head.

“Nothing but boring, small-town crap. Nothing even remotely suspicious. Except for this coupon: four boxes of Kraft mac and cheese for a buck?”

Sam let out a laugh, walking over and looping his arms around his brother’s neck from behind.

“Should we investigate the Kraft corporation?”  
“Eh, let ‘em go. What’s a childhood without processed orange cheese powder?”

Sam laughed again, pressing a kiss to Dean’s cheek before walking to dig a shirt out of his bag.

“We are almost in desperate territory for laundry, Dean.”  
“Almost, but not quite.”  
“One of these days, this ‘waiting ‘til the last minute’ thing is going to come back to bite you.”  
“Yeah, but today ain’t that day.”

Sam smiled and shook his head, sliding a grey t-shirt on. 

“It’s so fucking hot here.”  
“It’s Texas, babe. What were you expecting?”

Sam shrugged his shoulders as he tugged on a pair of jeans.

“I don’t know, something a little less like walking on the surface of the sun?”  
“Hey.”

Sam glanced over his shoulder after he buttoned his jeans. Dean lifted his eyes, a smile on his face.

“Beaumont’s only about four and a half hours from New Orleans.”

Sam smiled, grabbing a pair of socks out of his bag and sitting on the bed.

“Do you want to go?”  
“Do I want to—Sam. Do you know me?”

Sam laughed, pulling his socks on and slipping his feet into his shoes. 

“I know New Orleans is your favorite city.”  
“Damn right it is. Let me take you there and show you around. If we leave now, we can get there a little after lunchtime. What do you say?”

Sam pursed his lips.

“It’s not like we ever really get a day off. Why not?”

Dean smiled, walking over to the bed and leaning over, pressing his lips to Sam’s. Sam smiled through the kiss, then lifted a hand to pat Dean’s cheek.

“Throw a shirt on and let’s go.”

*-*-*-*

Sam slept for most of the drive with his head in Dean’s lap. Being raised in the Impala the way he was—the way they both were—the gentle revving of the engine and coasting of the tires was like a lullaby to him. Throw in a little classic rock on the radio and Sam was out like a light. Dean spent most of the drive with one hand on the wheel, the other in Sam’s hair, singing along softly to the radio.

Sam woke alone in the car, and a quick glance out the windshield told him that Dean was filling up the car at a gas station. 

“Hey, sleeping beauty.”

Sam rolled his eyes and yawned as he sat up, looking out the rolled-down window to see Dean smiling at him, a pair of dark sunglasses on his face.

“Where are we?”  
“Baton Rouge.”

Sam nodded as he yawned again, then opened his door, groaning as he stretched his long legs. Dean had his attention on the gas pump, and when Sam motioned to him that he was going inside, Dean just nodded. Sam shivered once as the air conditioning blasted him as he walked into the station, and he asked the young girl at the counter where the bathroom was.

*-*-*-*

Sam hated hand driers in the bathroom. Why everywhere just couldn’t provide paper towels was beyond him. He walked over to the coffee stand, picking up a few napkins and wiping his hands off. He walked over to the drink cooler, looking through, and stopped when he came to the counter.

Talk about nostalgia.

Sam grinned, then grabbed two cups.

*-*-*-*

Dean glanced out his window when he heard the bell over the door ring, rolling his eyes behind his sunglasses when he caught sight of Sam.

“Really?”  
“Do you want Coke-flavored or blueberry?”  
“Coke, obviously.”

Sam smiled as he handed the Icee through the window, latching onto the red straw and taking a long sip as he walked to his side of the car. Dean smiled as he shook his head, sipping from his drink and nodding.

“Damn, I forgot how good these things were.”

Sam nodded as he opened his door and sat, still sucking on his straw. 

“You’re going to get a brain freeze.”

Sam cut his eyes over to Dean, who raised his hands and laughed.

“All right, but don’t cry to me when your brain feels like icicles are stabbing into it.”

Dean started the car, turning the volume up when “Sister Christian” started. Sam pulled off of his straw long enough to cock an eyebrow. 

“We’re in Louisiana.”  
“So?”  
“So … Isn’t there some rule that you gotta listen to country music? Or that … swamp music stuff?”  
“That’s called ‘Cajun,’ college boy.”

Sam lifted his middle finger and Dean laughed as he pulled the Impala back onto the Interstate. Once they were at a steady speed, Dean reached over and popped the tape out, scanning through the radio stations until a clear one came through.

“Hey, Garth Brooks.”

Sam rolled his eyes as Dean started singing along, loudly and obnoxiously, about heading to the Oasis with his friends in low places. 

“Ow.”

Dean glanced over to see Sam lean forward, one hand pressed to his forehead.

“Sammy?”

Sam mumbled something, and Dean raised an eyebrow.

“What?”

Sam sighed, eyes screwed shut.

“Brain freeze.”

Dean shook his head, laughing under his breath, reaching over to gently rub the back of Sam’s head.

“I told you so.”

*-*-*-*

Dean found a hotel in Metairie, just on the outskirts of New Orleans. He explained to Sam how the rooms would be ridiculously expensive in the city, and here, only about ten minutes away, the rooms were much more reasonable. Sam just nodded, unloading the bags and scoping out the guest laundry just down the hall from their room.

They stayed at the motel long enough to drop off the bags and use the bathroom, and for Sam to stretch out his legs. Sam didn’t say anything about the king-sized bed, but kept a smile on his face, the same way that Dean was. They got back in the car and drove the short distance to New Orleans, both smiling when they caught a glimpse of the Superdome. 

“One day, we should go to a game.”

Dean glanced over to see his brother looking out the window at the stadium.

“You want to?”  
“Why not?”  
“Then we will, baby. Just give me some time to rustle up some tickets.”

Sam laughed.

“’Rustle up’? Been watching westerns again, De?”  
“Shut up, Sam.”

Sam laughed again, reaching across the street to lace his fingers with Dean’s.

*-*-*-*

“Those are like … pure sugar. Pure, fried sugar.”  
“That’s the point.”  
“Close your mouth when you chew and don’t speak until you swallow. Don’t.”

Dean closed his mouth and Sam shook his head.

“I heard it as soon as I said it, and I could just imagine what you would say.”

Dean laughed as best he could with his mouth full, then shook his head as he took another bite of his beignet. Sam watched him, then bit his lip.

“One more time?”

Dean rolled his eyes.

“Aren’t you supposed to be the smart one?”

Sam narrowed his eyes, and Dean wiped his mouth. 

“Ben-yay. It’s French for ‘this little biscuit-thing is fucking delicious.’”

Sam let out a quiet laugh, rolling his eyes this time. He picked up one of the little biscuits, powdered sugar raining down everywhere as he took a bite. Dean watched with his eyebrows raised, and Sam nodded to him. Dean let out a laugh, taking another bite, getting powdered sugar all over his mouth.

“I told you.”  
“You did.”  
“Try the coffee now.”

Sam took a sip from his cup, giving a quiet moan.

“Oh my god.”  
“Right?! I told you.”  
“You did. This is amazing.”

Dean smiled, lifting his cup for another sip. Sam smiled, reaching over and thumbing a bit of powdered sugar from the corner of Dean’s mouth. Dean gave him a heated smile, and Sam lifted his cup, taking another sip.

“So how did you find this place?”

Dean sat back in his chair, spreading his legs.

“Café DuMonde is a New Orleans staple. I met this local chick when I was like twenty-three and she introduced me to … everything NOLA.”  
“Careful. You’re sounding like a local yourself.”

Dean rolled his eyes, but he smiled as he took another bite.

“Anyway, this place stays open like 24/7 and is famous for the coffee and the …?”

Sam shook his head, smiling as he spoke.

“Beignets.”  
“There we go.”

Sam drained his cup, setting it on the table.

“Well, I give it four stars. What’s next?”

There was a twinkle in Dean’s eye.

“The French Quarter. Come on.”

*-*-*-*

Sam was shocked. Not much shocked him anymore, but this … this did. This _definitely_ did.

Dean was holding his hand. 

In public.

People walked by, and more than a few glanced over their shoulders at the tall, handsome boys who were holding hands. They whispered to each other, but kept walking. Other people smiled at them, and one older lady gave them two thumbs up from her wheelchair. 

“Hey, here it is.”

Sam glanced up as Dean tugged on his hand, and Sam followed, standing beside Dean as they looked through a window into a store. Everything was dark, but the things that Sam could make out were—

“Dean, is this an occult shop?”  
“Voodoo, Sammy. Come on.”

Sam planted his feet, and Dean glanced over his shoulder.

“What?”  
“Don’t look at me like we don’t have twenty-four years of history telling us why it’s a bad idea to go inside.”

Dean rolled his eyes.

“We’re not going in to gather ingredients for a hex, babe. Just come on.”  
“I don’t have a good feeling about this.”  
“Well, I do. Come on.”

Dean grabbed his hand again, and Sam stepped into the shop behind his brother. He looked through the dim light, not registering the death grip he had on Dean’s hand. An uneasy feeling had set up camp in his stomach, and beside him, Dean let out a laugh.

“Will you relax? Nothing bad’s going to happen.”  
“You don’t know that.”  
“Actually, I do. I’m here, right?”

Sam nodded.

“And as long as I’m around …?”

Sam smiled, speaking softly.

“You won’t let anything bad happen to me.”  
“There we go.”

Dean leaned over, gently kissing Sam’s lips, still tasting powdered sugar.

“Relax, babe. And follow me.”

Sam followed, no less than a step behind his brother. Dean rolled his eyes, then smiled as they reached the counter. Dean leaned over, looking at the cash register, then grinned back at Sam before he slammed his hands on the counter. 

“MAMA!”

Sam jumped as the beaded curtain covering the doorway behind the counter began to vibrate. The curtain was pushed aside as a short, round woman walked out, skin as dark as the way Dean liked his coffee. 

She looked from Sam to Dean, laying a hand over her heart and closing her eyes. The curtain went still and the woman shook her head as she made her way around the counter. 

“Good Lord, boy, you took ten years off my life just then! Get over here.”

Dean laughed as he walked over, bending over to wrap the woman in a hug. She smiled as she patted his back.

“It’s been too long, _cher_.”  
“I know it has.”

Dean smiled as he stood up, looking over his shoulder.

“Mama, this is my Sam. Sammy, this is Mama Leona, the voodoo mistress of the South.”

Dean flinched when she smacked his shoulder.

“I done told you, boy. Don’t call me no ‘voodoo mistress.’ Makes me feel like a lady of the night, and I sho’ ain’t that.”

Sam smiled, stepping forward and extending his hand.

“It’s nice to meet you.”

She sidestepped his hand, wrapping him in a hug. Sam let out a quiet laugh, but hugged her back.

“It’s nice to meet you too, _cher_. Dean’s told me a lot about you. Nice to see you got more manners than he does.”

She gave a pointed look to Dean, and he lifted a hand, scratching at the back of his neck. Sam raised an eyebrow, and Dean shrugged his shoulders.

“Mama had a little problem in the store few years back. I helped her get rid of it.”  
“’Helped?’ Hell, boy. You saved my life, and in more ways than one. I couldn’t have made it without this shop.”

Dean smiled, and Mama Leona stepped closer to him. She reached out and took hold of his chin, looked in his eyes, and a smile crossed her face.

“Well, I’ll be. Guess you owe me that fifty dollars now, don’t you?”

Sam raised an eyebrow again as he looked to Dean, who had a sheepish look on his face. Mama Leona let out a loud laugh.

“Last time Dean was here, we had a long talk about you. I got my cards out and everythin’, told him the two of you was meant to be. He didn’t believe me, but those cards never lie. I told you, didn’t I, _cher_?”

Dean nodded, and Mama turned back to Sam.

“I told him you’d be beside him the next time we met, and he bet me fifty bucks that I was wrong.”

Dean sighed and started to reach behind him, and Mama leaned over, slapping his shoulder.

“If you think I’m going to take a dime of your money, you got another thing comin’. Take this boy and get him somethin’ good to eat.”  
“Mama, you get a good look at him? Kid eats me out of house and home already.”

She smiled widely.

“Good, healthy boy.”  
“He’s got to be, to handle me.”  
“Dean!”

Dean threw back his head and laughed, and Mama laughed as she pushed him on the shoulder. Sam felt his face growing red, and Mama stepped up, gently patting him on the back.

“Crass as he may be, you got a good one here, _cher_.”

Sam smiled.

“I know I do.”

Mama nodded, glancing over at Dean.

“You be gentle with him.”  
“Mama, come on now—“  
“You hush, boy. I’m talkin’ to your Sam.”

Dean closed his mouth, taking a step back. Sam glanced down at the woman who barely came up to his chest.

“You got to teach me how to do that.”

Mama laughed, shaking her head.

“That comes with time and age, _cher_.”

She sighed, shaking her head again.

“You need to always remember what you feel right now.”  
“I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to forget it.”

Mama smiled.

“Not just the love, _cher_. I mean everything. The need, the desire, the heat. Times won’t always be as easy as they are now. Don’t let this slip away.”

Sam looked from her to Dean, then swallowed.

“Okay.”

Mama smiled, patting his back. 

“Okay. Before you go, let me get you somethin’ from the back.”

Sam watched as she walked towards the counter, stopping and laying a hand on Dean’s cheek before she stepped through the beads again. Sam blinked, feeling a tug in his chest, and he walked over to his brother, reaching out and pulling him close, cupping Dean’s face in his hands as he fit their mouths together. Dean smiled into the kiss, sliding his tongue out, just enough to brush against Sam’s, easing the frantic feeling that had started to take root in Sam’s mind.

“Easy, baby.”

Dean murmured against Sam’s lips, and Sam sighed, pulling back and resting his forehead on Dean’s.

“I love you.”  
“I know.”

Sam snorted, and Dean laughed to himself.

“I love you too, you giant dork.”

Sam moved to rest his chin on Dean’s shoulder, as Dean easily wrapped his arms around him. Sam sighed, closing his eyes as he felt their heartbeats fall into sync. 

“Here we go.”

They stepped away from each other, but Dean took Sam’s hand as they walked to the counter. Mama noticed, and smiled, then held out the items she’d brought out. 

“These ain’t nothing new. Ain’t nothing you ain’t never seen before. But I see you ain’t wearing any, so.”

The boys each held out a hand, and Mama wrapped a matching bracelet around each wrist.

“These will protect you. And Lord knows you need ‘em, troublemakin’ boys that you are.”

Dean and Sam both laughed, and Mama patted each of them on the wrist.

“You be careful out there, all right?”

She met Dean’s eyes.

“You take care of him.”

Dean nodded, and she turned to Sam.

“And you take care of him. Even when he fights you on it, because God knows he will.”

Sam laughed, but nodded his head. Mama smiled, nodding her head.

“All right, then. Dean, see if you can get him to try some crawfish. They’re in peak season right now.”  
“That’s the plan. You take care, Mama.”  
“That’s the plan, _cher_.”  
“If you ever need me—“  
“I got your number. Don’t go changing it. Now get!”

Dean laughed, taking Sam’s hand and tugging him outside. Sam waved to Mama, then blinked as they stepped into the sunlight again.

*-*-*-*

As they walked down the street, Dean tugged on Sam’s hand, pulling him to his side, throwing an arm around his shoulders and pressing a kiss to his temple. Sam smiled, fitting himself to Dean’s side.

“Tell me about her.”

Dean smiled, kissing the side of Sam’s face again.

“Four, five years ago, I got a call from Dad. Said there was a poltergeist in town and I needed to take care of it. I drove down, found it no problem. But there were actually two, not just one. One in the store and one in the little apartment above the store, where Mama lives. I got the one in the store, but the one in the apartment almost won.”

Dean shook his head, letting out a sigh.

“I did save her, and she just cried in my arms when the poltergeists were gone. She gave me a place to stay, helped me gain like ten pounds.”

Dean laughed, shaking his head.

“I was down here, doing a job she’d found for me when I realized Dad was missing. Right before I came and got you.” 

Dean had a sad look on his face, but Sam leaned over, kissing his lips.

“I’m glad you did. Came and got me, I mean.”  
“Sam—“  
“No, I … I mean it. At first, yeah, I was pissed. I kind of hated you, to be honest. Pulling me out of school for what I felt was no reason. And then losing Jess like that …”

He shook his head.

“But if I hadn’t lost her, I wouldn’t have you. And I just …”

He sighed, meeting green eyes.

“I’m glad things worked out the way they did.”

Green eyes crinkled softly in a smile.

“Me too, Sammy.”

Dean kissed him one more time, hands resting low on Sam’s hips, then smiling widely.

“Come on. We’ve got to find some crawfish.”  
“Okay, can we just talk about that for a second?”  
“You don’t have a shellfish allergy, so don’t even start with me. Keep up.”

An exasperated sigh made Dean bite his lips to keep from laughing.

*-*-*-*

“Most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen.”

Dean rolled his eyes as he narrowed his eyes and peeled another crawfish tail.

“Here, princess. Already peeled this one for you.”  
“I am not eating that.”  
“Oh, sure. Grass that a cow’s shit on, you’ll eat all day. But a little crawfish…”  
“First of all, cows do not shit on lettuce, you idiot. Second… Oh my god, don’t ever do that again.”

Dean lowered the head from his lips.

“It’s what you’re supposed to do. Suck the head and pinch the tail.”  
“I’m never kissing you again. Ever.”

Dean shook his head.

“What a baby. Here, try a potato.”  
“I don’t think so.”  
“What? Look, none of them got fresh with the potato before they kicked the bucket, okay?”

He shook the potato he was holding towards Sam, who rolled his eyes, blowing out a breath as he took a bite.

“Careful, it might be—“  
“Jesus Christ!”  
“A little bit spicy.”

Sam coughed as tears ran down his face, and Dean shook his head, taking another sip of his beer. 

“Well, you won’t have to worry about anyone looking at us like we don’t belong. Now they _know_.”

Sam glared at his brother, still gasping for air. Dean turned his attention back to the pile of crawfish in front of him, picking out one where the tail was sticking straight out.

“See this?”

Sam nodded.

“We don’t eat this.”  
“Why not?”  
“It’s dead.”  
“Hate to state the obvious here, but aren’t they all dead?”

Dean snorted.

“Yeah, college boy, but this one was dead before he was cooked. Definite no-no.”  
“And you told me this because…?”  
“Because, that’s another crawfish slogan. Don’t eat the dead ones.”

Sam shook his head, and Dean held up a perfectly peeled tail.

“Please, Sammy. Just one. For me.”  
“Oh, you asshole.”

Dean smiled widely, and Sam made a face, then opened his mouth. Dean popped the tail in, and Sam chewed, still making a face, until his eyebrows lifted. He looked to Dean, who nodded.

“Right?”

Sam nodded, and Dean laughed, shaking his head.

“Stubborn little bitch.”

Sam hit his shoulder and Dean laughed again. He went to pick up another crawfish, glancing up to see hazel eyes watching nonchalantly. Dean rolled his eyes, a smile on his face.

“Pick you out one and I’ll teach you how to peel it.”  
“I’m not sucking the head.”  
“That’s not what you said last night.”

Sam closed his eyes, letting his head fall back, and Dean absolutely cackled as he peeled the tail. Sam shook his head, searching through the pile, picking up a crawfish.

“You are _such_ a jerk.

*-*-*-*

Sam groaned as he walked into the motel room, falling onto the bed on his back, closing his eyes. Dean smiled as he watched him, locking the door and laying the salt line down.

“I’m miserable.”  
“But you’re cute.”

Sam gave Dean a look, then groaned again. 

“Now I see why this place is your favorite. It’s the food.”  
“Exactly, little brother. Scoot over.”

Sam did, letting Dean lie on the bed before moving to latch himself onto Dean’s side. Dean smiled, gently pushing his hands through his brother’s hair. 

“Good day?”

Sam smiled, eyes closed as he rested his head on Dean’s chest.

“Very good.”  
“Hey, what’s tomorrow?”

Sam scrunched up his nose as he thought.

“Sunday?”  
“Yes. And you know what happens on Sundays?”

Sam let out a quiet groan.

“I’m too miserable to think.”  
“And to think you wouldn’t even try the crawfish for the longest time.”  
“They were delicious. But added to the gumbo and the … what was the other thing?”

Dean thought for a minute, then smiled.

“Etouffe. I told you not to.”  
“I know. But it smelled so good, and it tasted so good and I … ugh.”

Dean laughed to himself, moving to kiss Sam’s forehead.

“Football happens on Sundays, babe.”

Sam made a little noise, before his eyes opened. He pushed himself up on his elbow, looking down at Dean.

“You didn’t.”

Dean reached into his back pocket, pulling out two tickets.

“I did. It’s just pre-season, but—“

Sam leaned over, fixing his mouth to Dean’s. Dean smiled, a hand coming up to thread through Sam’s hair as they kissed. Sam leaned back, looking down at his brother, shaking his head.

“You’re amazing. I love you.”

Dean lifted a shoulder, smiling when Sam leaned to kiss him again. Sam took the tickets out of his hand and sat up, smiling as he studied them. Dean sat up and kiss his shoulder.

“You’re right. We don’t get days off, and I’ve always wanted to go to an NFL game. Why the hell not?”  
“This is going to be awesome.”

Sam leaned to kiss Dean again, lingering this time, as their tongues tangled together. Sam let out a quiet laugh when Dean’s questing hands slid beneath his shirt, pulling it over his head before he lay back on the pillows. 

“I’m still full and tired, Dean.”  
“So stop me.”

Sam laughed, hands coming up to take hold of Dean’s face, lifting his lips from Sam’s chest and moving them to meet Sam’s lips. After a thorough kiss, Dean latched onto Sam’s neck while Sam tried not to whimper. 

“Is that game in the—oh shit, _right there_ —in the morning or…?”  
“I think it’s mid-afternoon.”  
“Thank God.”

Dean laughed a second before Sam pulled him in again, fitting their mouths together. Dean’s left hand slid up Sam’s right arm, touching the bracelet on his wrist before their fingers laced together, hands gripped tightly.


End file.
